


Memories

by tearoseglasses



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Experimental Style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 01:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20023972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearoseglasses/pseuds/tearoseglasses
Summary: They wanted to forget. But forgetting is always a horrible idea.





	Memories

The people of the Imperial City would never get used to the sight of the man. He'd walk in one door and walk out a completely different man. As if his body had melted from old age, beard changing to stubble as youth returned and his eyes grew brighter if that was possible. Only the color of his eyes would stay consistent. Copper and bright. 

_ Snake eyes _ … the remark would float through the cities. He would mutter too. Mutter nonsense. Nonetheless, his remarks would get louder when he sat at the foot of the dragon. They'd also slowly make more sense. 

_ The sky is less blue without you. More of a green. A disgusting green. I think you  _ **_took_ ** _ some of the blue. Too many things are green. Perhaps I'll change the grass to red. _

He misses someone. Someone who was obviously important to him. Few pitied him. The guard had tried to arrest him a few times, but he'd simply laugh, laugh a maniacal laugh, and vanish with a puff of smoke. Then he'd return. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. Until one day it stopped. 

He stopped coming. 

It seemed as if the city mourned. 

Wind whipped through the buildings, taking out trees and at least one farm. The lake swelled so quickly, boats sunk of shock. And the sky? 

The sky cried. 

People sat in fear for weeks before a familiar face walked through the storm, grinning like a child. 

_ You miss me! How sweet!  _

The rain slowed to a drizzle. 

_ Yes, I know this must be a raging storm of well. Rage.  _ He cackled as the wind ripped his hair from its surprisingly neat ponytail.  _ Calm down now. You see I'm fine. And as much as I myself love chaos, this is ridiculous! _

The storm died. People slowly leaked outside. 

He cackled again, skipping out of the city, once again speaking nonsense. About a dragon. About Kvetch. And once again saving people. The few that dared to follow him could feel the madness seeping from him like fog in from the sea. He vanished with a puff of smoke once he'd lead them down a winding path of nothing meaningful, leaving them lost, but not too lost. 

He started coming again. Some days he would mutter the same word over and over;

_ Bored bored bored bored bored bored. I wish you could read to me again _ . 

And once, he reverted completely. One man found him sobbing at the foot of the statue near sunrise, mumbling;

_ I'm sorry I'm so so sorry I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Martin… _

One man had approached but didn't dare confront the boy. By morning, he was gone. Vines began to grow around the statue. No matter how they ripped at them, they would not die. They blossomed with beautiful flowers. Beautiful golden flowers. So they were left alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the worst of my Oblivion depression. It remains one of my favorite works.


End file.
